Second Life
by Gothicteaparty
Summary: I died in the mundance world, and now I have been given a second life from my Precursor gaurdian. The only catch? Being enlisted as Jak's buddy!
1. Homicde and Ketchup

"Wake…UP!" A voice chirped near my sensitive ear, and my hand flapped in the direction of the voice, satisfied as I heard my ligament make contact with skin. "What was _that_ for?" The annoying voice demanded of me, and I blearily opened my eyes, my eyes smarting from the headache I had. Note to self: Coke and Rum was good, but not if you had something to do the bloody morning after. I sat up in a instinctual panic before my mind recognized the person standing before me. _Nikki. _I didn't remember inviting her over. Okay, I didn't remember much of last night, but that was what I got for partying too hard on my sweet 16th. Could you blame me? Probably. My parents were in Vegas, and Gunther, my brother, was in college getting a bachelor in chemistry.

"Let's be realistic here." I snapped, fighting a disgusting vertigo as I sat up. "It is Winter break. It is _before_ ten. I am a woman. Count the reasons, and figure up an answer. And what are you even going here?" I rubbed my eyes, and ran to the bathroom, throwing up. I looked in the mirror. Good, I was what I looked like before I woke up on the floor, alone. My reflection paused. Alone? The shaky memories I did have were filled with people. So… what happened to them? Better yet, did I want to know? Maybe…maybe not. I studied my bloodshot grey eyes, and sighed. Grey. Why that color? My real mother and father, whoever they were, better have had grey eyes. I was an outcast in sunny California, where mocha and sky ruled the pigmented world. Who wanted storm-colored eyes? And to top it off, silver hair? It matched, yeah, but I was called an old woman, when I wasn't being scolded on the particular 'dye job'.

When I finally decided to stumble out of the bathroom, I was greeted by Nikki with a pot of coffee. My gaze zeroed in on the liquid, my mind ignorantly passing by the question on _what the fuck Nikki was doing here._ We weren't friends. More like, enemies. First sight, she told me to go screw myself. I had replied by telling her to jump off a cliff, and had to add in the fact her friends were stupid enough to follow her, and finished it up by somehow insulting her mother.

I'm just _that _smart. Okay, maybe not.

I sipped my coffee, and surveyed the room in all its glory. Blankets and pillows were scatted around the room, and it looked like someone had spilled an unholy amount of ketchup over the comfortable objects.

Wait a second... I froze, and dropped the mug, not even paying attention to the porcelain hitting the floor. I slowly turned around, my eyes wide with fear.

"No…" I whispered.

"Oh, oh yes." Nikki whispered back, sauntering up to me. I stepped back, my eyelid twitching as a slice of coffee mug slid into my foot.

"How….why…when? YOU _BITCH!_" I screamed at her, and contradicted myself my running down the hall, panic slipping like ice in my veins, and I scrambled to find my brother's room, the only room in the house with a deadbolt. Damn my foster parents for believing in electronic security systems. I flipped the metal, and panted, and squeaked as the door was pounded on by the demonic bitch.

"Come…on, Anastasia, come play with me, soon you'll be gone, far…far…away." She hissed through the crack in the door, and I covered my open eyes with my hands, not understanding what she was saying. Where was I going soon? Away from her? I was okay with that, very, very okay with that.

After a while, I found enough nerves to search my brother's room. I found a Derringer pistol, and a wicked knife. I slid the knife in its sheath, and managed to fit the thigh holster. Did anyone ever mention chafing? This thing….itched. Like crazy. I was suddenly glad of four years of martial art classes, but I still didn't trust myself enough to fight her. Nerves, work on the nerves. I glanced around the room, until my mind came across my brother's prized PS2. My eyes widened, but not in fear. I raced, sliding down on my knees to frantically turn the T.V. onto the correct frequency.

My mouth opened in shock. _Jak and Daxter 2_. My favorite game in the world. I clicked my file, which I set to right before the battle with Kor. I smashed buttons like my life depended on it, forgetting for a couple of minutes the homicidal woman outside my door. I fist-pumped the air, landing the final blow-

And then the power went out. I groaned at the dark screen, and picked up the PS2, pulling out the disc and balancing it in one hand, the other pulling out all the cords. I ran out of spaces between my fingers, and pulled the biggest fucking act of Darwinism, and put one, the main power cord, in my mouth. Not five, _five _seconds afterward, I glanced up to see the T.V. flicker. My eyes widened, and my mind slowed down to hear Nikki laughing her mind out, and I had one, if not two seconds of mind-blowing, indescribable, painful beyond all recognition fire, and then I heard one voice slide in my mind:

_Welcome to your new life. I am your protector, a Precursor named Vikor. I have given you a second chance, because you are not human, and It is our fault you are dead. Our only condition is that you protect...and become a close friend to Jak Mar, our hero. _

But besides that, I could have sworn I heard Nikki laughing. That annoyed me more than dying.


	2. Smoke and MIrrors

**Oh bully, I forgot to say all the special crap, didn't I? I DON'T OWN JACK SHIT! Okay, I own the idea for this, and my Oc, Anastasia. Not to mention Nikki, It would be terrible if anyone stole her and tried killing me with her. O.o**

**Damn, I don't own the Matrix either. That'd be fucking legitimate, no? I'd be SO RICH! **

**R&R, PRETTY PLEASE? I'M ALL ALONE!**

**And thank you to AmberBreath, for your comment!**

Fair to say, I should have been dead. Really, I'm just that type of person who would get pissed if I wasn't dead from several thousand volts dancing in my nervous system, having fun as they wrecked havoc on my mind, no doubt laughing as they puffed out my silver hair to insane lengths. I should have been dead, no miracle, no second chances, right? I was extraordinarily gifted since an almost-deity gave me life?

Nah, just bully for me. I was made fun and ostracized at school, criticized to abnormal heights by my 'doting' parents, and mentally slapped around by everyone I knew. All because I had the stupid hair color, my sarcastic attitude, and my stellar grades. I repeatedly failed math, but I was in the highest honor classes for science and English, not to mention I was the best artist and singer at school. Oh, I wasn't confident enough to sing in front of people, but I could handle small crowds. Everyone knew I had the voice of a star, some people said I could duet with Amy Lee. I scoffed at them, and tried passing off as blind adoration.

Why was I looking over my pathetic life now? I was dead, right?

No, not me. I'm apparently too _special_ to die.

I was standing in a white room, one which would make the _Matrix _look dirty_, _and I just had to take a second to look around me… nope, no noticeable features besides the fricking whiteness of it all. I felt my eyelid twitch. Why was I mad about not dying? I think most people would have been utterly ecstatic at the prospect of living even after they were murdered, or was it suicide? I wasn't happy on that little fact.

Sighing, I almost humped out of my skin when a mirror dropped in front of me. It was a beautiful mirror, with a black, carved frame. I stepped forward to peer at it. The design was incredible, consisting of vines with thorns racing down the sides, almost like French spirals would. Between each spiral, there would be a different card sign, like the heart, club, spade, and diamond. I had always liked the symbolism of it, but all of a sudden I had a bad feeling about it. My fingers occupied the air right above it, and I could have sworn it was emitting energy. I stepped back; paranoia drilled into my veins, and circled the mirror. It was double sided, same thing on the other side. I was very, very confused.

"Like it? It represents you well, does it not?" Came a voice with a shitload of ambiguity, even with the question. I whirled around, a defensive movement that left me with my hands curled as fists at my neck level, and my knees bent. A blue-ish figure hovered before me, and it looked like someone stabbed it repeatedly with a blue glitter pen. That just happened to glow. I had no eyes, but not in a creepy way, just in a mysterious way. I straightened back up, embarrassed.

"I like it and all, it's gorgeous, but where the heck am I?"

"The realm between this world and your future one."

"Really? That's cool."

"Is it? Is it interesting to be taken your world to only be put in a more desperate one?"

"What is _your_ problem?"

"Is it _I_ who has the problem?"

"Um, are you just gonna hover here, or are you putting me in the next world, what ever it is?"

He looked through me for a second. That was how piercing his stare was. I felt uncomfortable, and I started humming 'Kids' from MGMT. Honestly, that was what came to my mind. Shows how serious I was on a bad day. He frowned at me, and then a small smile came over his face. Mentally, I was shocked, my mind finally working.

"H-holy shit-you're a…a…a…precur...sor?" My mind had just about fried, and it felt like I needed a second. I stood there, reeling. I was in a game. Unreal. Impossible, but apparently not improbable. God…dammit.

"Yes, I am surprised you we not scared of me. Oh, it is time for you to go." With me staring-no, transfixed at him, he disappeared. Into who-ever knows where.

And left me there, here, _whatever, __alone__._ Wonderful. I stormed around the room, seething. How dare he leave me here! I was going to ask so many questions! Why did Nikki try and kill me? Why did she murder all the people at my party? I didn't consider them friends, and I wasn't exactly sobbing over their demise…but still! What the hell happened? If my memory was correct, I had to travel over to Haven city, land myself in prison, not _die_, oh, because I never worry about _that._ I looked at my reflection, and wasn't very surprised. I had the characteristic elven ears, an unnatural chest size, (which I just knew was going to bother me. You can't shoot a fricking gun while trying to find a place to put your cleavage.) And, was dressed totally differently from back when I died. I was wearing a black tank top (Which showed my boobs, and cut off at the belly. I noticed I had a belly button ring. Awesome!) I was wearing camo pants, (Which hugged my voluptuous body) and black combat boots. On that, I totally and irrevocably approved of. I could kick ass, and I had plans on kicking ass.

I touched the mirror, out of simple, pure curiosity. Another _Matrix_ rip-off. The mirror coated my hand, even if I tried pulling it away. I screamed, and pulled away, but failed. My eyes were wide with animalistic terror, and I screamed, again and again, and felt the silver coat my chest, the cold was so noticeable, and as I started to feel its touch in my throat, I grew silent, and passed out.


	3. Erol

**I don't own anything. I really, really don't. Except my OC's. And so, so sorry for not updating it until now. Cross Country practice ended today and tomorrow we have our last meet. Then I'll be FREE! And yes, I will update like a mad being. Thank you everyone for their adds, and comments! I love you all! And please R&R! Or I'll send Nikki to kill you slowly…..and painfully….with a rusted spoon and a rope. *Eyes sparkle evilly* Oh yes, oh yes…. **

I woke up looking at the sky. Oh, trust me; it wasn't like I was in Ireland with the wind playing with my illustrious hair. No, the smell of the city woke me up. It smelled like the city…if you don't live in one, you couldn't know what I am talking about. The combined smell of gasoline and sewage, along with the almost tangible scent of desperation was hanging like a wraith in the air, and it made me want to gag, and vomit.

But oh, where was I now? Was this the Haven city, where that idiotic Precursor banished me? I struggled into a sitting position, and looked around me. Yep, those strange characters, the ones that reminded me of kanji were everywhere, illuminated with the noble gases like Christmas lights. I felt woozy all of a sudden, like I had just gotten off a roller-coaster. Hell, maybe I just fucking did. La-di-da. I looked at the gray sky, squinting my eyes as a raindrop fell down to splash my nose, and I automatically stuck my tongue out to catch the next raindrop, but let my face twist up as it tasted horrible, not unalike to sour milk. How could water taste that bad? I suspected the environment.

"There she is, get her!" I heard the voice a little while off, and turned my head quizzically. Erol! Oh, fucker! I jumped as he pointed his gun in my direction, but not _at_ me. I took that to my advantage, and ducked, hiding amongst the group of elven civilians, hoping he didn't-

Wait a bloody second. If I was supposed to _protect him_, did that mean I was to get _caught? _By _Erol?_ Had the Precursors never heard of hmm…._molestation? Murder? _Better yet, _suicide?_ By me? Oh, surely they were smarter than that, yes? No, of course not. I thought in my mind that they thrived on pain, and it seemed I was right. I ran out of the area, but why, oh why did they feel like it was proper to give me an unmanageable body! I ran, and I felt my body adapt to it like I had always ran on cobblestone and sand streets, dodging fat elves and Krimson Guards, homeless children and women galore. My breath ran easily, but my ankle must have hyper-extended, because it suddenly throbbed, a dull ache that was continually growing sharper. I heaved, sliding into a small alley, slinking down onto the balls of my heels, my eyes wide with fear and my chest moving rhythmically with the short burst of adrenaline. I saw red out of the corner of my eyes, and I whimpered, grinding my body into the stone wall.

No, I should have seen the next few moments coming. Really, I should have. I sighed as soon as what looked like the last KG round the next corner. I held still for a few more precious seconds, and tilted my head. A hand slammed out, gripping me by the neck. I grunted before hitting the wall, clawing at the hands, and opened my eyes. Erol, god fucking dammit. Well, well, Anastasia, aren't we smart today. I thought to myself as I rolled my eyes. Erol must have seen it, because he started to rage at me.

"What! Did you _expect _me? Did you plan to get caught? Well?" He clamed down for a minute, looking me over, like he hadn't pain attention to me, really. He smiled sickeningly, and let his hand trail down my cheek, and I didn't fight it, only stared at him. He lost his grin, surprised, and a sudden heat in his eyes filled, white-hot lust, and possession grew in his eyes. He slunk down, carrying me to the ground, trying to rip my shirt off. I let out an involuntary yelp, and that stopped him for a second. By now, I was even more surprised than he was. Wasn't he supposed to be the evil, sly, cunning, no moral value onesoever Erol? He peered at me silently, holding me down still, and leaned closer to me. I had by that time grown silent again, looking at him with confusion in my eyes. Closer and closer he brought his face down to mine. He couldn't have been more than thirty. The game made him seem like an ugly monster. His hair was not really that red, and flared. Yes, it was curly, but it reached his shoulders and had hints of light yellow, and gold in it. His eyes were not ghastly or haunting, not cynical at all, and they were green like the first fuzzy grass of spring. Oh, how they had gotten his description wrong! His skin was not even pasty, but translucent like a sheet of fogged glass. My eyebrows twisted, and I was so, so terribly confused. If they had gotten one of the main characters wrong, who was I to think that all the others would be the same? Torn could be nice, and Jak could be a pervert, Daxter could be silent and Ashlin could have a sense of humor. Hey, maybe Keira wouldn't be such a bitch! Wait, wait…'t get my hopes up.

I snapped out of my thinking process, brought back to the possible rape moment. Erol hovered me, and pulled me up. I breathed a sigh of relief-

Only to be shoved into the wall again. My back was starting to ache, throbbing in time with my heartbeat, and my ankle re-doubled its efforts to explode.

"I was asking you a question. Who are you?" He started at me, and I lifted an eyebrow. He flicked his eyes to the side, to his earpiece. I understood. So, he was being watched over.

"Ana…stasia." I had no desire to say my last name. I had no want to be known amongst this world. I decided right there I would have no name, only my fist name. It sounded unique enough to be recognized, and I could always change that, too.

"Where are you from?"

"I…don't know. I have amnesia, I woke up in the city, and here I am."

"Liar." Erol barked, but had a twinkle in his eye as he kicked the trash cans, rattling them with an annoying sound. _Why was he faking for me? Wouldn't he get in trouble? He doesn't even know me!" _I yelled in my mind as he offered me a hand. I took it gingerly, and he supported my weight, and looked at me worriedly as he heard a whine escape my mouth. I picked up my foot, looking at the ankle. Blood was smeared over it, looking pink in the city lights. Nausea cramped in my stomach. EW. He shook me, and squeezed the injured ankle, and yelp emitting from my mouth, as I fell over as I smacked his hand away, hobbling over to lean against the side wall. Fucking whatever. I'd support myself, thank you very much. I limped into the street, pissed beyond recognition. I never even let my boyfriends treat me like that, that little display was unforgiveable. It was probably broken now, and it felt like it. I touched my ribs, and moaned, staggering. One, two, maybe four broken. What had I done for that? The fall? Hopefully not. I leaned against the building, steadying myself as I hissed out in pain, repeatedly. Strong arms wrapped around me, hugging me.

"You look a little beat there, missy." I rolled my eyes. "Come on, Erol."

They gripped me tighter, and I felt his voice in my ear, then a rough tongue lick the shell of it, sending n unwanted shiver in my spine, and he laughed. I made a move to get away. His arms dug in deeper, pain skittering across my body, and I jumped, and he laughed again. That laugh was getting annoying, metal on concrete. Nails on chalkboard.

"You look so…ripe. Like an entire satchel of eco dropped on my doorstep. You know, the Baron told me I could do whatever I wanted with you…heh…heh."

_Oh, shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!_ My mind screamed at me, and I paled. No, the color in my cheeks all but disappeared, goose bumps decorating my skin as I realized what he meant. Irrational, I sent a prayer to the Precursor who brought me down here. _I better pass out-_

Blackness.


End file.
